


Girlsie in Disguise

by liecanroc



Series: Girlsie in Disguise [1]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Murder, Past Domestic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liecanroc/pseuds/liecanroc
Summary: Morgan runs away from a life she hates to work as a newsie, hawking headlines from sun-up to sun-down. The only problem- she's a girl in 1899. The idea of a girl working at all is still very new, especially to the Manhattan newsies. Will her true identity be revealed, or will she pass as one of them for years to come?Originally published on Wattpad by me (liecanroc).
Relationships: Crutchie/Original Character(s), Jack Kelly/Katherine Plumber, Racetrack/Original Character
Series: Girlsie in Disguise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896316
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

A.N.- Depictions of domestic abuse and alcoholism are present throughout this story. If you don't want to read it, I suggest you click away.

Also, I can't write accents well, so I'm not gonna write an accent for anybody. Sorry about that.

The smell of rough liquor was thick in the air of the rundown apartment Morgan lived in. The sun was sinking into the horizon, and she knew there wasn't much time before she couldn't leave. She exhaled sharply, curling up on her bed tighter as she heard footsteps approach her room. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as her bedroom door flung open letting her father storm in, and the smell of whatever alcohol her father was drinking that night entered as well, making Morgan gag. A beer bottle, broken in half, narrowly missed slicing the side of her head as it crashed against the wall behind her.

"I wish we never even had you!" her father slurred, stumbling drunkenly into the room. Morgan pressed her knees tighter against he chest, praying that she wouldn't get hurt too bad that night. Her father struck her across the face, leaving a bright red hand-print she knew would bruise later. Grabbing the sharpest shard of broken bottle he could find off the duvet, her father used it against her, pressing it hard across her jawline, letting drips of blood form. It stung like hell, but she didn't dare flinch at his actions. He licked his lips and breathed the stench of liquor all over her. She glanced at the packed bag in her closet, only for a second, knowing that as soon as her father left the room, she'd take the bag and run for it.

The phone rang. Morgan held her breath as her father stumbled to answer it. She waited until she heard his slurred speech answering, and silently stood up. Skipping over the floorboards that creaked, she grabbed the newsboy bag with a day's worth of boy's clothes, some first aid, and a few hairpins inside, crept to the fire escape, and quietly made a run for it. Blood dripped down her chin as she ran though New York. She stopped at an alleyway near Newsie Square to change, leaving her old clothes behind and pressing some gauze to the slice on her cheek. She looked at her reflection in a puddle in the alleyway, and realized she still looked like a girl. She tucked her short brown hair into a black beanie to try and help, to no avail.

Maybe if I rubbed some dirt on my face, Morgan thought, before wiping a little grime from the alley on her face, avoiding the cut on her jawline. Checking her reflection again, she decided it was good enough. Noting the sun still sinking in the horizon, she ran as fast as her legs would move to the Manhattan Newsboy Lodging near Newsie Square. She saw three newsies, all taller than she was, walking into the lodge house, so she nervously stopped, and prayed they would notice her. Luckily, a boy hobbling with a crutch did. He started walking towards her, and the boys he was waking with stopped in confusion.

"Hey, you in need of a job? We've got room for one more." He said with a crooked smile. She nodded, and he motioned for her to join the group. She walked towards them, hoping they wouldn't notice the slice on her jawline or the bruise on her cheek.

"Hey, you get soaked or something?" a boy with ruffled black hair asked, showing visible concern.

Of course they noticed. "Yea, its not a big deal." she replied, trying to deepen her voice a little.

"Who was it?" a third boy asked, a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

"Some boy in a fedora. Again, not a big deal," she lied.

"The Delancys," The three all said in unison.

"Stay out of their way. They're nothing but trouble," The boy in the crutch told her a little too seriously, and the four walked into the lodge.

"I'm Jack, by the way," The boy with black hair said. "The one that always has a cigar hanging out his mouth is Race, and the little one in the crutch is Crutchie. You got a name?"

Morgan faltered. Why hadn't she thought of a new name before?

"Relax, Jack. Not everyone has a name," A boy with round glasses quipped. "That's how you all started calling me Specs. You need a name, kid?"

Morgan nodded, careful not to let her beanie slide further back.

"Then I dub thee, Beanie," He said, gesturing to the back beanie hiding her longer hair. He smiled, and it slipped away as he noticed the bloody gauze and bruise forming. "Hey, you get soaked?"

"The Delancys got him," Jack said through gritted teeth. "He hasn't been a newsie for a day and already getting beat up."

"Come on, Davey-" Specs gestured to a taller boy sitting on a couch "-knows a little about first aid. He can help you," Specs said, pulling her to the worn out couch and sitting her down next to Davey. She took off her glasses and gently peeled the gauze off of the slice. Davey gently turned he head to the side to get a better look at the cut, and Morgan felt herself blush.

Why does he have gauze? And why is the cut so clean? Davey thought. There's something he's not telling us. Race handed him a small first aid kit and a damp cloth to clean out the cut.

"This is gonna hurt," Davey told Morgan, not wanting her to be hurt by his actions.

"It's okay, I have a pretty high pain tolerance anyways," she replied, and let Davey get to work tending to her wound. Davey gripped the cloth in his hand and started cleaning the cut. Morgan was clearly in pain, digging her nails into the palms of her hands until her knuckles went white, but she didn't cry out or even move from the pain.

"Damn, this is deep," Davey mumbled.

Morgan clenched her jaw and squirmed slightly when he pressed the cloth deeper, cleaning down to the base of the slice. She pressed her nails tighter into her palms, leaving purple crescent moons where they were.

"Okay, I'm done. You can relax now," Davey told her, and she exhaled a deep sigh of relief. "The bleeding isn't stopping, though. You're gonna need some stitches."

Morgan sighed.

"Don't sweat it. If the cleaning only hurt that much, you'll be fine." Davey told her. Morgan smiled, not buying what he was saying. She watched as he threaded a needle with suture thread, and he stomach churned. She wasn't afraid of needles, but the idea of stitches scared her. She wrapped her arms around her abdomen and gave Davey a weak smile. He reached up to start stitching up the cut, and she gripped the armrest of the couch with all her might, willing herself no to cry out in pain. Her breath trembled as Davey continued. She heard a door open and shut a few times, and realized that all the other boys except Crutchie, Jack, Race, and Davey had left. A tear threatened to spill over, and she put all of her thoughts on making sure it didn't. She heard a snip of scissors, and realized that it was all over. She took a deep breath, trying to slow her breathing and relax.

"You did good, kid. How old are you?" Crutchie asked.

Morgan swallowed. "Fourteen." The boys around her all gaped for a moment and she knew what they were thinking. How could the Delancys soak a kid?

"Hold still," Davey said. He placed a piece of tape over the stitches. "You know, if i ever see those Delancys. I'm giving them a piece of my mind. it's not fair for them to hurt a little kid!"

"I'm fourteen, not seven," Morgan remarked, sliding her glasses back on. "And don't bother. They probably wont even remember me, and I don't want you getting hurt when you didn't do anything wrong."

Race held out his hand. "C'mon, you need some sleep. Is there an extra bed anywhere?"

"The bunk above me is empty. You can sleep there," Crutchie said with a smile.

The four walked to the bunk room where everyone else was. Davey and his little brother Les went home while Jack and Race helped Morgan get the bed ready. She flopped on the bed, and fell asleep quickly after her long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgan slowly blinked, making sure that no other newsies were awake. She had to make sure that none of them ever saw her with her hair down, or she risked being kicked out of the lodge. Silently, she reached for the black beanie next to her pillow and tucked her hair into it. She ran a finger along her hairline, making sure that every strand was hidden. She sat on her bed, waiting for some of the other newsies to wake up for the day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Beanie, you know how the papes work, right?" Crutchie asked Morgan as they walked to buy papers.

"Kind of," she said, not quite understanding what he meant.

"Alright, so we buy papes from Wiesel for 2 a penny. Don't enter other people's selling spots and do not cross the Brooklyn Bridge. That's Spot Conlon territory. I'll let you sell with me today, just to show you the ropes. Make sense?" Crutchie explained.

Morgan nodded. 'This all seems more complicated than I thought," she said. 

"Don't sweat it, kid. You'll be fine," Crutchie told her, pushing her beanie back a little. A lock of brown hair slipped out, and Morgan panicked to push it back in. 

"You're a girl," Crutchie whispered. 

Morgan's eyes widened at his words. "My real name is Morgan. Please don't tell anyone," she begged.

"Your secret is safe with me," He said, flashing a crooked smile. 

That damn smile, Morgan thought, feeling her face flush red. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan glanced down at her last newspaper, getting to read some of the other headlines for the first time all day. Manhattan Teenager Reported Missing- Presumed Dead one of the headlines read. Morgan's eyes widened as she realized the beat was about her. She heard footsteps and she saw Crutchie hobbling up to her.

"Just sold my last pape. You?" he asked, and she held up the paper she was reading.

"This is my last one," she told him, and he gently took it from her to try and sell it.

"Extra! Extra! Manhattan teenager reported dead!" He cried, and someone stopped to hand him a dime. He turned back to Morgan to hand her the dime. "We should get back to the lodge soon. I need to talk to you about something", he told her, before walking away. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan slowly stepped into the Newsies Lodge, and saw that no one except Crutchie was inside. He was sitting on the worn out couch in the front room, and smiled when he saw her walk in. She walked over to him, and sat down next to him. 

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" She asked nervously.

"I want to know what brought you here, and tell me the truth."

A.N.- Shorter chapter today, but I have plans for a longer one after this.


	3. Honest

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" She asked nervously.

"I want to know what brought you here, and tell me the truth."

Morgan sighed. She should have know this was coming. Of course as soon as someone found out her real identity they'd want to know the full truth. She decided that there was no point in hiding anymore, at least to Crutchie. 

"My father was abusive, so I ran away. My mother died when I was nine, and my father was pretty distraught from it, I guess. We used to live in Santa Fe, actually, but my father moved us to Manhattan when I was ten. I've lived here for four years now." She paused to take a breath. "When we first met, I told you that one of the Delanceys soaked me. I lied about that, too. It was my father that hurt me, and I couldn't take it anymore. The headline from earlier today about the teenager that went missing was about me. I'm sorry I lied," She explained. 

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," Crutchie said, placing his hand on her forearm. Morgan pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. He reached out and gently clutched her cheek, careful not to press on the purple bruise on her cheekbone. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she leaned in, with Crutchie doing the same. Morgan heard footsteps outside the door and newsies yelling. Her eyes widened, and she pushed Crutchie away and adjusted her beanie, blushing. 

The door flew open, and Manhattan newsies streamed in. 

"There you are! We've been looking for you two," Specs said, lightly punching Morgan's shoulder. She smiled, and saw Jack walking in with some girl she'd never seen.

"Oh! Beanie, this is Katherine," Jack explained, and Katherine waved at Morgan. She waved back, smiling, until Race walked by and playfully pulled off her beanie. She gasped, and turned around to try and grab it, but it was too late. The lodge went silent, and she knew the jig was up. 

"Beanie?" Elmer breathed. Morgan looked up and saw Jack, his expression hard and emotionless.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do," He told her harshly. 

Morgan swallowed, shifted in her seat, and began. "My real name is Morgan Harris. I'm here because I ran away from my abusive father. My mother died when I was nine, and we moved from Santa Fe to Manhattan when I was ten. When we got here, my father started drinking more and became very violent." She looked up at the other newsies. "When we first met, I said that the Delancys had soaked me. That was a lie, too. Really, it was my father that had hurt me, and I couldn't take it anymore so I left. I'm so sorry."

"But why did you have to lie?" Jojo asked.

"Would you have let me stay if you knew I was a girl? Any of you?" The silence hung in the room for a moment. "That's what I thought. A girl newsies wouldn't make it, so I didn't have much of a choice. "

"You have every choice," Jack spat. "Get out." He sounded too much like Morgan's father.

"What?" She whispered, hoping she had just misheard him.

"Jack-" Katherine started, but Jack put a hand up to cut her off.

"Get out!" He yelled, and Morgan understood. She stood up, grabbed her newsboy bag from the top of her bed, and threw on her beanie as she walked out the door. She stopped just outside the door, hoping that Jack would change his mind. Crutchie hobbled after her, desperate to not let her get away. 

"Morgs," he breathed, and Morgan turned around. She stepped towards him, and he took her hand in his. In a leap of faith, she stood on her tiptoes, quickly pressed her lips against his, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He grabbed her waist, hoping that she would be able to stay. She quickly pulled away and adjusted her beanie.

"Please stay," He begged.

"Goodbye, Crutchie..." She turned on her heel and ran.

"Morgan? Morgan!" Crutchie cried.

Davey poked his head out the door. "I'll get her. Watch Les until I get back." he told Crutchie, and ran after Morgan.

Crutchie hobbled inside and closed the door behind him.

"Jack... can we talk?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Davey's heart pounded as her ran after Morgan. God, she can run, he thought as he turned a corner. Morgan looked over her shoulder and saw that she was gaining distance from Davey. She turned her head back around fast, but not fast enough. Her ankle twisted hard as she hit the pavement. Her ears were ringing, she could feel her pulse run through her skull and her hands starting to sting from scraping against the pavement. She saw Davey crouch down next to her to make sure she was conscious. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and picked herself up, but quickly regretted it as an arrow of pain ran through her leg when she put weight on it. She was caught by Davey, and he lifted her bridal style to get her back to the lodge.

"You're going back to the lodge, Morgan. You need to heal."

"Fine. But as soon as I can walk again, I'm leaving." She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his chest.

"Fine."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"She can't stay here."

"Listen, I know you don't like her. I know you're mad at her."

Jack scoffed. "You got that right."

"But she means a lot to me, and all I'm asking is that you give her a second chance. She hasn't had a real, loving family in years, and she deserves one."

Jack clenched his jaw. He didn't want to admit it, but Crutchie was right. 

"She's fourteen! You heard what she's been through. No one, especially someone her age, deserves that." Crutchie exclaimed. 

"Fine! Alright, she can stay. But if she causes any trouble, she's gone. Got it?"

Crutchie didn't have time to answer before Albert threw the door open and both Jack and Crutchie turned to meet his gaze.

"She's hurt real bad, Crutchie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carefully, Davey placed the injured and sleeping Morgan on the worn out couch in the front room of the lodge. He carefully brushed back strands of hair that clung to her forehead from sweat. 

"Is she gonna be okay?" Crutchie asked, worried.

"Probably," Davey replied. "She fell asleep on the way back which is good, but her ankle is definitely sprained. Other than that, she'll be okay."

Crutchie exhaled a sigh of relief. Carefully, he sat down and leaned against the armrest of the couch, watching Davey as he did his best to patch up Morgan. Crutchie looked up at Morgan sleeping peacefully, and for the first time he noticed the sprinkling of freckles that ran across her nose and cheekbones. He pulled his knees up to his chest and fell asleep quickly knowing that Morgan was safe for the first time in her life.


	4. Heartbeats

Morgan ran up the stairs, hearing her father run after her. She looked behind her, and saw him throw a glass bottle, hitting her forehead just above her right eye. She looked back up and saw the top of the stairs further away than before. Her ankles seemed get heavier and heavier, and she realized that a ball and chain dragged her down. She took a deep breath and tried to run but fell a few steps back. She grabbed the banister, and the ball and chain seemed to get heavier as the top of the stairs got further away. Gripping the banister, she tried to run, but her feet were stuck to the floor. She felt her father's icy arm wrap around her neck, and he started to choke her. A wrinkly, three-inch-long finger trailed along her cheek, and she shivered and turned her head away. Whatever had been choking her lifted her up of the ground effortlessly, and she kicked her legs in a weak attempt to get away. She felt herself slipping away as she gasped for air.

"You're mine now, Morgan."

"Morgan?"

"Morgan!"

She sat up quickly, breathing heavily with tears streaming down her face.

"It's okay. You were having a bad dream." Crutchie told her, trying to calm her nerves.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to slow her breathing. "I've had nightmares before, but that was the worst it had been in a long time."

"You were crying and kicking your legs, but you don't need to be scared anymore. Was it about... him?" He asked cautiously.

She nodded, clearly nervous. "I hope that they're never that bad, but I feel like it's going to be a long time before they go away." She swung her legs over the edge of the couch, making room for Crutchie to sit next to her. He carefully sat next to her and she leaned up against his shoulder.

"It's okay. You're safe here. I'll protect you." He told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply the smell of newsprint and ink. He smoothed her hair, trying to fulfill his promise to protect her. He felt their heartbeats sync, and he knew she felt it too. He tilted his head to press a kiss to the top of her head as he heard the morning bell ring. Morgan tried to stand, forgetting about what had happened the previous night, but her knee buckled, and she hit the floor.

"Morgs," Crutchie sighed. He bent down to help her sit, and she winced as the put weight on her injury.

"You're not selling papes until you get better." He told her, brushing back a section of hair from her face.

"I can walk, it just wasn't wrapped right." She explained, lifting her foot on the couch to wrap it correctly.

"I didn't?" Davey asked, walking into the lodge with Les.

"No. You need to wrap it three times just above the joint, then a figure eight motion around the foot." She explained, demonstrating her words.

"How do you know that?" She heard Jack ask, running his fingers through his hair.

"Grow up in the household I did, and you learn a lot about first aid." She said, standing. She wobbled slightly and winced, and Davey held out his hand in case she fell.

"I'm fine. Really. I've been though worse," She explained, not sure if that helped her case.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Les asked, but Morgan was already heading up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan sat on the worn-out couch in the front room of the lodge, knees pressed to her chest, listening to the boys argue about who knows what. Soon enough, they heard Mr. Kloppman's voice outside the lodge.

"I'm sorry sir, but I simply cannot let you in."

"You have to. I need to find my daughter."

Morgan froze. She knew that voice. The door to the lodge creaked open, and she flung herself over the back of the couch, hiding behind it, her heart racing. All the boys looked to where she was sitting, confused. They all looked back at the large man that had stumbled in, smelling strongly of some liquor they didn't recognize. Then they all recognized the similarities between him and Morgan. That's her father.

"Excuse me, but you have to leave," she heard Elmer tell him.

"This'll only take a moment. I'm trying to find my daughter. Have you seen this girl? She's about fourteen and on the shorter side." He held out a worn-out drawing of Morgan from a few months ago. She had much longer hair but didn't look as happy and had fewer scars.

Crutchie spoke up, trying to help Morgan get away from her father forever. "I think I saw someone that looked like that get on a train bound for New Jersey. You might be able to find your daughter there."

Morgan's father nodded sadly, folding the drawing and putting it back in his pocket. "Thank you. I'll be on my way." She heard footsteps head towards the door, and it open then shut. She waited a few seconds, before hearing Race speak up.

"You're safe now, Morgan. He's gone, hopefully for good."

Morgan slowly stood up and lifted herself over the back of the couch to sit on it.

"God, I can't believe he's actually looking for me."

"Well..." Davey started.

"If you say that it's because he loves me I will kick your teeth in."

If looks could kill, I'd be a dead man, Davey thought as Morgan curled up tighter on the couch. Crutchie brushed back a section of hair from her face and gently kissed her temple, and she leaned against his shoulder.

She would be safe, at least for now.


	5. Hostile

"Hey Morgan, have you seen the newest headline?"

She shook her head. Her leg had been hurting more and more, so she didn't sell papers that morning.

"Well, there's a headline I think you'd want to see." Davey handed her a copy of that day's paper. Henry Harris Arrested for Murder of Wife, the headline read. She kept reading, curious if the article about her father. "Henry Harris, forty-two, has recently been incarcerated after a recent investigation proved him to be guilty of the murder of his wife. After reporting his missing daughter to police, they searched the apartment he lived in to look for clues of her location. In their search, they found enough evidence to take him to court, and sentence him for murdering his wife 5 years earlier.

"In an interrogation, he claimed the following: 'So what if I did it? I told [family] that [wife] got sick and [daughter] didn't think anything of it. What's it matter anyways?'

"After pleading guilty in court, he was sentenced to prison for life for his crimes. His child(ren) are still nowhere to be found"

Morgan slowly lowered the paper, her eyes darting around the room. She wiped a tear form her cheek and clenched her jaw. This was a lot to take in, and it seemed as if her whole life had been a huge lie. What else didn't she know?

"Morgan, are you okay?" Davey asked, scared he had done the wrong thing in showing her the article. She folded the newspaper back up and pressed it against his chest. She grabbed her beanie and threw it on as she headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" A newsies asked.

"Out. Don't look for me." She said and left quickly before anyone could object.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan ran through the busy streets of Manhattan, heart pumping and legs burning. She didn't really know where she was going and didn't care. She stopped and leaned against a wall to catch her breath.

"Who the hell are you?" She heard someone ask.

Morgan looked up to see a gruff teenage boy at least a foot taller than she was staring down at her.

"I- "she stuttered, not knowing what to do.

"You're on Brooklyn Turf, princess. You need to be taught a lesson."

"How's it going, Skid?" She heard someone else ask. Some boy a few inches taller than her was swaggering towards her.

"I- uh... this girl's in our territory," Skid told him.

"I'll handle it. Back to your post, Skiddy."

Skiddy nodded and walked away. Morgan wrapped her arms around her stomach, scared of whoever this boy was.

"The name's Spot. You lost, kid?"

"Sort of. I found out some information that upset me, so I just needed to get away for a while. I'll be on my way." She said, starting to walk away.

"You got a name, kid?" Spot asked.

"Morgan." She turned on her heel and ran back to the lodge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan stormed into the lodge, fuming. On the walk back the had more time to think about the article and how she'd been lied to for years. What else had he lied about? What other lies had she believed for years?

"You okay?" She heard Race ask as she walked past him.

"Morgs?" Crutchie asked, clearly concerned.

"Turns out that my father had been feeding me lies about my mother for five years, but yes, I'm fine, thanks for asking" She threw open the door to the bunk room and flopped across her bed, still fuming. She pulled her beanie off and chewed on her inner cheek until she tasted sticky crimson. She heard the door creak open, and sat up to see Crutchie walk in.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked, hobbling towards the bunk. Morgan nodded, and climbed down the ladder to sit on Crutchie's bed. He sat down next to her and wrapped her in his arms.

"I know I shouldn't be as upset about as I am, but just knowing the truth..." She sobbed, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"It's okay. You have every right to be upset about it."

"I just wonder if he had been feeding me any other lies." She sat up to look at Crutchie. "What else did he tell me that I believed?"

As she spoke, Crutchie started showering her with kisses, trying to make her feel more loved than she did at that moment. She giggled as he hit a ticklish spot on her neck and turned so he couldn't reach that spot. He wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned to knock him flat on the bed and lay on top of him. She licked her lip and kissed him deeply. He ran his fingers through her shoulder length curls, wishing she could stay forever.

They heard to door start to open, and Morgan quickly sat up, flushing bright red.

"There's someone who wants to talk to you." Race told Morgan, trying not to give away the fact she was here.

"Give me a minute." She told Crutchie, standing and silently walking to the front room. Her eyes widened as soon as she saw who it was.

"Hey Morgan," He said, smiling.

"Hello, Maddox," She responded coldly.

"What, you aren't happy to see me again?"

"You walked out of my life when I needed you the most. Forgive me if I'm not the most excited to let you back in that easily."

"That's a little harsh, don't you think? I get that he abused you or whatever, but- "

"Get out." Morgan demanded, her eyes shooting daggers.

"I- What?" Maddox asked, confused.

"You have no right to use my trauma and personal grievances against me in some pathetic attempt to make me feel bad for you and guilt me into letting you back in my life. You weren't there, so you aren't allowed to. Get out!" She yelled, her breath shaking. She watched as he slowly left the lodge before turning around, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Who was that?" Race asked, and all the other boys nodded.

Morgan swallowed. "My brother."


End file.
